


the gift of second chances

by LelianasSong



Series: Theramore and the Forsaken [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Allies To Lovers, F/F, Post-Third War, Theramore Aids Forsaken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LelianasSong/pseuds/LelianasSong
Summary: After Sylvanas' plans to establish Undercity fail in a mass of crumbling bricks and fel magic, she must turn to other options to ensure the future of her people. Choosing to reach out to another hurt by Arthas' actions, she turns to Lady Jaina and Theramore to find allies in a world where her and her Forsaken have none.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner, Sylvanas Windrunner/Dark Ranger(s)
Series: Theramore and the Forsaken [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887778
Comments: 31
Kudos: 343





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImprobableIntellect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImprobableIntellect/gifts).



> Please enjoy this piece and the artwork that was created based off of it! 
> 
> Artwork at the end is done by Raviollies! You can find their artwork at:  
> Tumblr - Raviollies  
> Twitter - @Raviolliess

**I**

Lordaeron was gone.

Sylvanas Windrunner could do nothing but snarl at the ruins both above and below the landscape. It had taken some powerful magic from the dreadlord, Varimathras, but it had shaken the catacombs of what would have been her planned city. Her haven for the Forsaken had exploded in a flash of green fel, shattering the foundations and supports that were keeping the Scourge’s work protected under the ground. Their human allies of convenience had either succumbed to the fel magic or fallen through the crumbling earth as tonnes of stone fell on top of them.

Pity, Sylvanas would have liked to have seen their leader’s face when he realised that she had had no intention of letting them keep Lordaeron for the humans. It seemed as though fate would have it that neither her nor the humans could have the stronghold though. It was decimated, far too dangerous for even her Forsaken to make the place their home. Her eyes trained hard on the wreckage, searching for any movement, any survivors outside of her Dark Rangers and the Forsaken that had already managed to escape or be rescued from the damage. It truly had been a long few days.

With so many of her plans lost, Sylvanas’ mind was working overtime, trying to figure out her next move. All she knew was that she needed for her people to continue, to survive and get stronger so that she could make the most of her freedom. Arthas needed to die. That was all that mattered to her. His vile ambition, his twisted soul had not only taken her life, but had found such cruel joy in tearing her psyche apart. She had slaughtered her own as a banshee paraded around like nothing more than a soulless weapon. Watched countless deaths, countless lives that she could not save and it filled her with a sickly rage that felt as if it burdened her body with sticky ichor. 

“My Dark Lady,” a voice called out to her quietly from behind, a hand squeezing her shoulder. “Anya has returned with the reports. We have options.”

“Well, Velonara? What are they? I did not realise you spoke for Anya these days,” Sylvanas said, her words flat as she refused to look away from the deep red of her rage. 

“There are living members of Lordaeron who left unharmed. Some returned to the alliance, others were rescued by Lady Jaina Proudmoore and taken to Theramore.” 

“Proudmoore? Was that not the mage girl who followed that wretched bastard when he was masquerading as a noble Prince?” Sylvanas spat, finally turning to glare at Velonara. “Why would I be interested in her?”

It was then that Ranger Anya stepped up, she had always been a little less bold than Velonara. It was strange to think that they had known each other so well in life. Right now it felt as if there was too much to think about and scheme than to linger on what Anya, Velonara and her other dark rangers had meant to her. If they were in life, Sylvanas might have nodded in acknowledgement or gratitude to a woman she trusted with her life. Now she just stared, red eyes blazing.

“I have found rumours of her departure from the Prince. She has also sided against her father in order to put an end to the war between Theramore and the Horde. It appears as if there are also high elves in her party as well as other survivors of Lordaeron. Your sister is among them.”

Sylvanas’ eyes widened for a moment, a strange pang of pain and feeling that her mind could not even begin to comprehend right now seemed to take over her chest. Pursing her lips, Sylvanas turned fully away from the wreckage, surveying the two rangers in front of her cautiously.

“You believe our kin will vouch for us? That they even care for us? To them we are monsters, or did you forget what the Grand Marshal and his troops thought of us. I doubt my sister will want to see us like this… me especially.”

“Moving to Kalimdor would take us away from the Alliance controlled areas too though. Lady Jaina and your sister are friends are they not?”

“And without a stronghold, we will need allies and a place to base ourselves…” Sylvanas spoke slowly, frowning. It was risky and there was no guarantee, but with little other options, the general in Sylvanas knew that all options must be exhausted. Her second choice would have been the Horde, but without their own city, the Forsaken would be seen as a burden of monsters. “Lady Jaina must be feeling guilty for the lives she could have saved if she had only done more to stop her Prince.”

“It would be easy to pull on her heartstrings. She is not entirely experienced in the ways of leadership. Not quite yet.” Velonara’s lips curled into a smirk, her red eyes glinting with the ghost of the excitement she had in life.

“Your sister must feel immense grief for the death of her last remaining sister too. She will be all alone and grieving you. What better a balm then letting her see that she has not yet lost you entirely?” Anya added, her smile mirroring the one Velonara wore.

“We shall use hope as our weapon then. Our bargaining tool. Hope for redemption and for family. It is a possibility. Lady Proudmoore, hmm?” Sylvanas tapped her chin, musing on the idea. 

Once more, Sylvanas looked across at the wreckage of her former plans, knowing that this set back would not be their only one. There would be dangerous times ahead and if she could not have saved her former kin, then she would try her best for the Forsaken who seemed to all be looking to her as if she were their ruler, their Banshee Queen. Their Dark Lady.

“Fetch me some paper and ink then, I am sure the humans didn’t lose all of their supplies. It appears I have a letter to write.”

\-----

There had been a time when Jaina thought her desk would never get as busy or as overwhelming as the depths of her midnight study sessions, with arcane tomes stacked high and opened all over the place. However, she had clearly not accounted for running a city, nor the sheer amount of paperwork and correspondence that would be added to her pile of books. The ocean of letters seemed endless and for once, Jaina felt as if she was having to fight to stay afloat.

Pinching her nose, Jaina took a deep breath, trying to settle herself before she picked up a letter with the most elegant handwriting upon the envelope. The lettering was certainly new, an interesting mystery that set it apart from the other letters that all held the writings of petty issues and important economics that she really should delegate to someone else. Of course, that would mean finding the time to organise who to delegate these things to.

Before Jaina could get lost in mental plans and to do lists again, she shook her head of unwanted thoughts; focusing on the task at hand. She picked up the sharp and ornate letter opener that she had been given by her father… another thought she did not wish to have. Slicing the letter open, she unfurled it from its confines and began to read. She frowned at the words, not quite believing what was written down. Of course she had heard people talk of the freedom and separation that some of the Scourge had managed to wrangle back with Arthas’ departure to Northrend. She had heard the rumours and had hoped for them to be true, to think that those poor souls might yet make the most of their new existence instead of being controlled by the man who she knew one day she might have married.

Once again shoving her thoughts aside, she continued to read with barely constrained trembling fingers. The Ranger-General was requesting an audience. No… she was a Queen now. Queen of the Forsaken. Of those unfortunate Lordaeron inhabitants that Jaina could not have saved. Instead here was Sylvanas, their new saviour, even in death. How far did their freedom run though? Could Arthas come back and still control them? What were these newly freed Forsaken like? Could they even be trusted?

“Jaina? You’re frowning harder than usual.”

Looking up from the letter, Jaina’s eyes widened as she looked at Vereesa, her friend and the sister of the very person who had written the letter in her hands. She appeared to have just come from a training session, one of the breaks she had worked out with Rhonin in their childcare plan. The blue and silver of the high elves stood proud against her flesh, a bow slung over her shoulder and a light sheen of sweat on her brow. Wordlessly, Jaina held out the letter, not knowing at all what to say to her friend. This would be worse for her, Jaina knew that. 

“This writing… it can’t be. I won’t read this until you tell me who it’s from!” Vereesa spoke, her voice trembling as her blue eyes seemed to glow even more intensely than usual.

“It’s her… it’s Sylvanas.”

“But… how? This is impossible! They were just rumours! I told myself not to hope… that this wasn’t my sister anymore! I heard what he made her do to our people; there is no way this _thing_ is my sister.” Veressa hissed, beginning to pace back and forth. “My sisters are dead…”

“She wants a meeting with me… with us. Vereesa, she’s seeking allies for her and the Forsaken. Please, read the letter. I want to help, I really want to help, but I don’t know her like you do.”

“You’d help those… monsters?” Vereesa scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you not remember the mindless slaughter that you ran from? That I… refused to see with my own eyes?”

“Do Scourge write letters, Vereesa?”

“Well… no. I suppose they would not.”

“And does it sound like Sylvanas? Please, I don’t want to walk into this blindly but I cannot just stand by and watch the people of Lordaeron, the families of many who reside here, wither and die again. Maybe this is their chance for change?” Jaina implored, standing up and walking over to her friend to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You mean your chance to feel better about the lives Arthas took?”

Jaina snatched her hand back, reeling backwards as if the words had physically slapped her. Instantly she mirrored Vereesa’s stance, her arms crossed tightly and her lip pulled between the sharp bite of her teeth. She tasted iron in her mouth, a result of the very real bite and the metaphorical punch to her gut that Vereesa had just delivered her.

As Jaina watched Vereesa, her friend’s posture loosened, softening as a small, sheepish smile spread across her lips. With a shrug, Vereesa stepped toward her, coaxing her to unfurl her arms and instead Jaina found herself enveloped into a big hug. It had been her first in quite some time, perhaps weeks or months. By the Light, she had missed such a simple gesture, as she found herself instantly sinking into Vereesa’s arms. She allowed the elf to rock her slightly as Vereesa buried her face into the crook of Jaina’s neck. It seemed as if they both needed this, as Jaina felt the both of them relax in the hold.

“That was cruel of me,” Vereesa whispered, stroking Jaina’s hair softly. 

“Was it? Perhaps it’s true? What if I make a mistake…?”

Vereesa shook her head at Jaina then, stepping backwards and looking back at the letter. The elf’s eyes seemed to move slowly over the page, as if she was truly taking her time to process every word and proposition. Taking her time to assess the situation before them, a second pair of eyes that Jaina knew she would desperately need in the times to come. Perhaps even a third if Rhonin would not mind… or Modera. Still, she watched Vereesa carefully, noticing the tears that began to brim in her eyes and the hand that reached to her mouth before Vereesa let out a loud sob. 

Within seconds of the first sob, Jaina wrapped her arms around her again. Providing support as Vereesa’s body trembled with each sob. It took a few moments for Vereesa to calm down and words to be a viable option again.

“It’s her… she still sounds like her,” Vereesa whimpered, wiping her eyes. “We need… I need to see her.”

“She has only asked for a meeting,” Jaina spoke softly, now taking her turn to be the one to stroke Vereesa’s hair gently.

“We need to hear her out. If there’s any chance I could have my sister back, if I could just save her from going down a dark path… she and her Forsaken don’t need to be alone… I don’t need to be alone.”

“So I should set up the meeting?” Jaina asked, smiling encouragingly at Vereesa whose eyes seemed to spark with something she had not seen in her for awhile; hope.

Vereesa nodded quickly, her lips tilted in a sad and yet hopeful smile. Squeezing her hand, Jaina nodded in kind, moving back to her desk and setting all the other letters aside. This would be her priority for today, to seek allies and perhaps make right some of the wrongs that Arthas had committed.

Yes, Jaina felt good about this. Perhaps Vereesa would not feel so alone and citizens of Theramore would not have to miss their family members as she knew they all did. They missed their home, every single one of them, and while Jaina knew she could not return to hers after what had happened with her father… well, perhaps she could make this new home a better one for everyone else. She had wanted to save them, to serve them. Maybe in this she would actually succeed if only by taking this chance.

Yes, something in her told her that this was the beginning of something. Whether it was wishful thinking or a premonition of sorts, it did not matter. It was a chance and right now, Jaina would take any chance and opportunity afforded to her to make the most of the world that had changed so drastically. 

\-----

Getting to the agreed meeting spot had certainly been an easier option than Sylvanas suspected that travelling to Theramore would have been. They had chosen to meet in Silverpine Forest, a place that was currently neutral and known to both parties. Sylvanas, Anya and Velonara stood in the designated clearing, waiting patiently for Lady Jaina, Vereesa and supposedly the human man that Vereesa had abandoned them all for. Sniffing indignantly, Sylvanas’ eyes flickered quickly around the surrounding areas, noticing out of the corner of her eye a slight russell of leaves in the treetops. She knew some of her other dark rangers were hiding there amongst the darkness of towering trees in the twilight forest.

Narrowing her eyes, Sylvanas looked to where Alina seemed to be the most visible. It seemed as if her silent chastisement worked, as Alina slipped back into the shadows until she was no longer visible to even Sylvanas’ keen eye. Slip ups could cost them far too much; this much she already knew. However, as if taken from her thoughts, she felt the recognisable sensation of arcane bristling in the air. It always felt much more muted than before, the magic of undeath seemed to see to that for her. But this was obnoxiously loud, as if the users intended for everyone to take notice.

Steeling herself, Sylvanas clasped her hands behind her back, standing tall. Her armour had been cleaned up, fashioned in deep royal purple and styled with silver skulls. It was imposing, intimidating, carefully crafted so that she would not appear to be the weaker party in this meeting. In truth, she and her Forsaken were. It was why Jaina had suggested they meet somewhere away from Theramore so that Sylvanas would feel safer. She despised it almost as much as she recognised its merits. After all, had Jaina not suggested it, Sylvanas would have been the one to make the demand that they meet away from the city filled with hundreds of people who could wish her and her new people harm. 

Suddenly, a shimmering portal opened up somewhere further back in the depths of the forest. Sylvanas could see it as clear as day, so brilliant was the light it created as well as the voices that came through as well. It seemed the magic that had located this place had finally worked for her guests, as they all finally stepped forth into the clearing. Despite herself, Sylvanas felt herself tense as she looked past Jaina Proudmoore and to her sister first.

Her Little Moon seemed to have not changed at all. Perhaps she looked a little more tired, a lot more apprehensive and her eyes a little too wide as she stared unabashedly at Sylvanas. Her mouth hung agape and Sylvanas did not miss the way that the red haired, human man beside her, Rhonin, squeezed her hand in encouragement.

Vereesa was scared. While the loudest part of Sylvanas’ mind told her she simply did not care for the thoughts of her sister, there was still a small pang in her chest of hurt and disgust at her own state of being. 

Tearing her eyes away from her sister, Sylvanas allowed herself to properly look at the woman to whom she had written to for aid. Jaina Proudmoore was young, she must have only been in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and robes of purple and white. If Sylvanas had not already heard of her accomplishments, she might have scoffed at the youthful woman in front of her, passing her off as someone without the necessary experience to even bother dealing with. But Sylvanas knew better than to dismiss her, not when such a woman had managed to forge some semblance of peace between orcs and humans in Kalimdor.

Still, there was that hopefulness in her eyes that Sylvanas had known would be there. As if she was forcing herself to look at the possibilities of a bright future rather than the dismal realities of the present. 

“Greetings, Lady Proudmoore,” Sylvanas crooned, stepping forward and meeting the party of three in the middle. “It is an honour to finally meet you.”

If there had been a list of responses to that, that Sylvanas would have expected, she did not expect for a laugh to be one of them. Clear and bright, it seemed so out of place with the forest that surrounded them.

“I believe we have already met before, Lady Sylvanas,” Jaina laughed, holding out a hand expectantly. “I was younger though and you were quite busy.”

“My apologies, it must be awfully remiss of me to have forgotten you,” Sylvanas spoke, wearily clasping hands with Jaina. “I must have been in a hurry to forget you.”

The warmth of Jaina’s hand, of a living person’s hand, was quite startling. Sylvanas could feel her ears flicking at the sensation, despite how she tried to keep her face a mask of indifference. Instead of allowing the moment to linger, she withdrew her hand, turning again to face her sister.

“Little Moon, I see you are doing well.”

“I see you are quite dead, sister,” Vereesa responded, trying her best to stand as tall as Sylvanas, trying to mimic her posture as if they were children once again and Vereesa was trying to learn all she could from her big sister. 

“How very observant of you.” Sylvanas raised an eyebrow at her, smirking a little as she nodded.

“Let’s get things on track, shall we?” Jaina interjected. “We have important matters to discuss.”

“Indeed, Lady Proudmoore. Focus is important in these trying times, is it not? I cannot help but wonder, if your Alliance knows of our meeting here. I know very well of what our human allies thought of us. Despite having fought and died to take Lordaeron back from the Scourge at our sides, they still only viewed us as monsters.”

“No, I did not deem it necessary. Theramore is under my control and we operate far from the Eastern Kingdoms. While united, I am not afraid to make and vouch for new allies to my old ones. Besides, you and your people were members of the alliance once. You sacrificed yourself so that others may live and I believe that to be admirable. Do you not agree that you deserve that chance?”

Sylvanas nodded in acknowledgement, musing over Jaina’s words. She seemed strong and proud, not once flinching from her convictions. It reminded her of people Sylvanas had known well in life, from her sister Alleria, to High Priestess Liadrin, all of them had spoken in earnest belief that everything they said could and would be so. Every promise wasn’t made idly and a similar fire burned in the eyes of this young woman.

“You take great risks, Lady Proudmoore, in coming to speak with me. You are so certain in your ability to protect and stand up against the rest of the Alliance?”

“I risked everything for what is right when I sided against my father. I do what I believe is right, not what is most convenient,” Jaina spoke, tilting her chin upwards and levelling Sylvanas with some level of defiance.

Charming. If nothing else, Sylvanas had to give her that. But whether her words could even be brought to fruition… well that remained to be seen. 

“What are you looking for, Sylvanas?” Vereesa interjected, her eyes seeming to dart from her to Velonara and Anya who stood at her sides. “What is it that you could provide for us if we were to give you protection?”

“How pragmatic of you, dear sister! I dare say the time we have spent apart has turned you into a tactician. Mother would be so proud.” Sylvanas tilted her head, taking in the way her sister tensed at her words. “You would have the ability to reunite families and loved ones. A chance to add to your defenses of Threamore with the old mages, fighters and priests of Lordearon.”

Jaina nodded, seemingly taking her words to heart and musing over them. Yet, as silence seemed to linger over them, the only source of sound the gentle breeze through the trees, Sylvanas could see that her sister was not quite so trusting. Perhaps she could see through her, see through the banshee surface and deep into the truth of her. Those blue arcane eyes were certainly searching, for something, anything that could give her a hint as to Sylvanas’ true intentions. Vereesa’s expression was after all far too predictable and readable. As much as Vereesa thought she knew Sylvanas, Sylvanas knew her sister just as well.

“What is your true motive?” Vereesa finally asked.

“You believe she is lying to us?” Rhonin asked, folding his arms tightly and levelling Sylvanas with what must have been an attempt at a disappointed stare. 

“No, but she doesn’t tell us the whole truth. What is it you desire Sylvanas, not for your people but for you?”

Raising her eyebrow, Sylvanas considered her sister for a moment more, finding herself annoyed at the almost triumphant expression on Vereesa’s face of having seen through her outward bravado. Still, it was not as if she hadn’t expected this, no, she had waited for this moment even. Planned it so carefully with how well she knew her sister, how well she knew she could pull on the heartstrings of this Jaina Proudmoore. So she stood, turning her piercing gaze to Jaina and standing tall.

“To stop him. To end his wretched undeath.”

“...You don’t mean-?”

“I do, Lady Proudmoore. I want us to stop the very man neither of us could stop alone. Arthas Menethil must be destroyed.”

Still Sylvanas continued to analyse every aspect of Jaina, Vereesa and Rhonin, although she could not care much for him in this. Jaina was the one who seemed the most taken aback, the most affected by her statement. The young mage looked at her hands, balling them tightly into fists as she frowned at something none of the others could see. Her memories perhaps, her own guilty conscience? It mattered little. All that mattered now was the expression of determination that Jaina gave her when she lifted her head. Strong and proud once again. Determined and perhaps for the first time since she had arrived, filled with resolve.

“If you wish to put an end to the Lich King, we will gladly accept your aid. We do not know how long it will be until he returns to finish what he started.”

Reaching out a hand, Jaina held her eye contact, not once flinching even as Sylvanas clasped her cold, dead hand over Jaina’s forearm in their agreement. In fact, those eyes seemed to glow, wisps of arcane glowing to the surface. Perhaps a show of strength against Sylvanas’ own blood red orbs.

It was hard not to smile, to smirk, as Sylvanas and Jaina reached an initial agreement, a pact to start along a new shared path. Their words were of friendship, of peace and yet Sylvanas knew that right now she cared little for either of that. Her and her people would get their vengeance and this was a better way to do it than most.

With this Proudmoore working with her, she would face Arthas and drive an arrow into the depths of his cold, dead heart.

  
  
  


* * *

  
**II**

The skies were a cloudless blue over the streets of Theramore. Many people bustled around the city, tending to the ports and selling their wares. Normal life was starting to seem almost possible for the inhabitants of Jaina’s newfound home and yet today, they would have to adjust again. Of course, the townspeople knew of the Forsaken and of their arrival; Jaina had, had to field question after question, concern after concern. Even though this was for all intents and purposes a trial period, the living seemed rather apprehensive of the dead coming to live with them, side by side.

Who wouldn’t be really?

Jaina had seen the destruction of the Scourge and no matter how much these people looked like the family that people had lost, it was still uncertain how much of themselves they had retained in death. Perhaps there was some hope, as Vereesa had confirmed that while certainly undead and while Sylvanas’ demeanour had grown more aloof, more mysterious and angry; there was something in her that Vereesa recognised as her sister. That piece of information she had gathered over far too much wine, but it had set her at ease.

With a home and somewhere to belong, the anger might dissipate after all. Their purpose nurtured into something more than a simple desire for revenge against the man who took their lives. Jaina hoped that if nothing else, a little compassion could give these people something to have hope for; to live for, for lack of a better word.

Jaina watched from the gates of the city, looking out across the marshland. She had warned Thrall and Cairne Bloodhoof of course, Kalimdor had definitely felt the presence of the Scourge, though not nearly in the same numbers as the Eastern Kingdoms. It would not benefit anyone to have the Horde and Forsaken to come into conflict. Cairne had shown the most sympathy for the Forsaken’s plight when they had spoken; commending Jaina on her decision and yet Jaina had not felt herself worthy of praise. Until she could see the results, until she could see with her own eyes that the living and the dead could live as one without prejudice, she would accept no praise.

She feared she would be waiting a long time.

Toying with her fingers, Jaina looked up past the gates to see figures walking down the road that lead straight to Theramore. The group was sizable, perhaps a hundred strong, with a mounted figure at the head. She felt a presence step up to her side, as quiet as a shadow in the forest, as they too looked out upon Theramore’s new guests.

“That looks like a small army, my lady,” Pained, her night elf bodyguard, spoke up. “Are we certain of their intentions?”

“Sylvanas knows that they are outnumbered here and that I have allies amongst the tauren and orcs.”

“And if the Banshee Queen were to try and attack you in your sleep?”

“Is there any reason why she would do that?” Jaina asked, raising an eyebrow at Pained. “This is a hostile world and strategically, murdering the only ally you have seems counterproductive. Besides, we have enough guards and mages here to stop them, should they try anything.”

Without another word, Pained remained by Jaina’s side, watching the approaching Forsaken. Soon, Jaina could see the distinct shape of Sylvanas upon an undead steed, it’s skeletal remains held together and in motion by the foul magic that had raised these poor souls to begin with. It took all she had not to shudder at the sight, to feel fear in the face of what had happened to these former people of Lordaeron and Quel’thalas. But Jaina stood tall, gathering strength as the minutes passed and finally Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken and Theramore’s newest ally, had come to a stop.

The proud undead elf wore armour that was far less scuffed than their first meeting. The deep purple was gorgeous and the silver detailing truly made Sylvanas look more like the Ranger-General and leader she had once been. The difference of course was the skulls that decorated her pauldrons and the bones that seemed to make up her bow. Sylvanas’ silver hair rustled in the wind, flowing almost like the wisp of a spirit, beautiful and ethereal. It was strange, Jaina thought, that she was looking so closely at the sharp angles of Sylvanas’ face and was genuinely appreciating the beauty Sylvanas was, even in death.

Jaina felt her cheeks heat up slightly as she realised she was staring, focusing on Sylvanas’ blood red eyes and pushing any thoughts on Sylvanas’ appearance out of her mind. She did not need to address it, did not need to dwell on it. Even with the smirk that seemed to be now tugging at the corner of Sylvanas’ lips, there was no need to acknowledge the gentle tumble in her stomach that such a smile caused.

“Welcome to Theramore!” Jaina said, tilting her body and sweeping a hand into the city. “I trust your journey here was a safe one, Lady Sylvanas.”

“Surprisingly Kalimdor was easier to navigate than was expected. I assume the breadth the Horde gave us was your doing?”

“My allies shall be your allies.”

“Yes… who would have thought that a human would be playing nice with the Horde.”

“I am playing nice with you too, am I not?” Jaina chuckled.

“You are certainly a strange one, Lady Proudmoore.”

“I will take that as a compliment. Now, if you’d like to follow me, we have prepared a camp for your people for now. Though I would like to extend an invitation for you personally to take housing in the keep.”

“Trying to keep me close, are you?” Sylvanas asked, arching an elegant brow.

“Well this is diplomacy is it not? It would be rude not to extend the invitation to you, as leader of your people, and be a guest in my halls. Besides, we have much to discuss and plan for the integration of the Forsaken. It would be easier if both of us can act as the bridge between us; the living and the dead.”

“Very well then, I shall accept your kind invitation, Lady Proudmoore.”

“Please, call me Jaina.”

Sylvanas seemed to smirk at that, something that seemed almost dangerous as she took a step forward, peering down at Jaina.

“Jaina,” Sylvanas purred, almost as if she were caressing the word. Despite the unnatural edge to her voice, Jaina felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine. “Then please by all means, call me Sylvanas.”

Pained made a derisive snort from beside Jaina, almost as if she had immediately sensed the unbidden reaction Jaina had, had to Sylvanas and her deep voice. By the Light, she hoped that the heat she felt rising to her cheeks wasn’t noticeable as she cleared her throat and gestured to Sylvanas’ entourage of Dark Rangers behind her.

“I trust your Rangers can take care of your people while we go over some details.”

“Why yes, they are very capable, but I shall be accompanied by Anya and Velonara. I trust there are no issues with that.”

“None at all… Sylvanas. Shall we?”

\-----

The first week of the Forsaken’s presence in Theramore had been an uneasy one. Jaina had watched many of her people give them a wide berth, merely tolerating their presence. Some of their eyes lingered, Rhonin had informed her that even those who knew each other had not yet approached. They were hesitant, uncertain of how to bridge this trauma and for that Jaina’s heart ached for them.

She was no stranger to trauma, after all. It was entirely understandable and she had foreseen such an occurrence.

But it couldn’t be allowed to continue and that was why she now strode around the marketplace with Sylvanas by her side. It was with great encouragement that Jaina had persuaded members of the dark rangers as well as other Forsaken to walk the stalls too, the presence of some of the more welcoming, living members of Theramore walking with them. It may take awhile, but exposure and integration was important and she would do whatever it took to get it to happen.

The marketplace lined the streets with hustle and bustle, with the sounds of bartering and of children running in between stalls as their hapless parents tried their best to correal them. Each stall was decorated with colourful fabric that protected the heads of the merchants and their goods in the overcast skies of Theramore. 

Jaina linked arms with Sylvanas, mostly as a statement as to the unity and friendship they were trying to foster. Although even in death, Jaina had to admit that the muscles in Sylvanas’ arms were impressive and not entirely a chore to have her hand on. She could practically feel the eyes of the dark rangers on her, falling to where her hand occasionally twitched and felt the hard muscles beneath. 

“Good morning, Lady Jaina!” greeted a merchant, his eyes casting a wary gaze to Sylvanas. “Welcome… Lady Sylvanas.”

Jaina nudged Sylvanas pointedly, gesturing for her to say something. She had been doing this all morning and right now she mostly found the annoyed twitch of Sylvanas’ ears cute and her look of exasperation seemed to be getting weaker and weaker as time drew on.

“...good morning. What are you selling today?” Sylvanas asked, giving Jaina a glance as if somehow checking to see if Jaina approved. 

“Just your average meats and cheeses, my lady. Could I interest you in anything?”

“Food tastes like ash on my tongue, so no. No, I have no interest here.”

The merchant’s mouth opened as if to speak but he found himself merely opening and closing his mouth as if he were a gormless fish. Rolling her eyes, Jaina looked at Sylvanas and shook her head. It appeared as if there were times when Sylvanas was more than happy to play along and others where she simply spoke in the bluntest of terms.

“Well, personally I would love to buy some cheese. Do you have a wheel perchance? I ran out of my private stock,” Jaina added, smiling encouragingly at the merchant.

Despite the fact his eyes never once left Sylvanas, he nodded. Listening to Jaina’s request for what cheese she would like to buy and fulfilling the order without any hassle. Sylvanas however seemed disinterested, her eyes darting around the rest of the stalls, keen eyes searching, but for what Jaina didn’t know. It could have been something that piqued her interest or even potential threats. From everything Vereesa had filled her in on, it was likely both. 

As Jaina finished paying for her food, she felt a tug on her arm as Sylvanas unentangled herself from Jaina’s gentle hold. Both Jaina and the merchant watched the leader of the Forsaken, the former Ranger-General of Quel’thalas, as she began to wind her way through the crowd. Her steps were still graceful as she moved, even without the humans who tried their best to part and keep their distance from her. With an apologetic smile, Jaina turned and followed, ignoring the odd stares her companion got and instead following her to where a merchant appeared to be selling children’s toys. 

The merchant, a young woman with a kindly face and an even warmer smile, faltered slightly at the intimidating sight of Sylvanas Windrunner stopping at her stall. As much as Jaina wanted to interject, to try and lessen whatever blunt discomfort was about to occur, she let Sylvanas conduct herself with no interruption. With deft fingers, she picked up a small carved figure of what seemed to be a large bird with long legs.

“These… remind me of home,” Sylvanas spoke, more to herself than to anyone else. “Tell me, why choose the hawkstrider?”

“M-my fondest memories were when my grandmother took us to see her home of Quel’thalas. I always loved the hawkstriders and dreamed of riding one, one day,” the woman said, chewing her lip. “Do they please you, ma’am?”

Sylvanas was silent for a moment,, regarding the woman in front of her, who apparently had, had family in Quel’thalas. She looked human as far as Jaina could tell, but she supposed she could see a slight sharp tip on her ear that would have been rare for a regular human to be born with. Nodding thoughtfully, Sylvanas picked up two Hawkstriders and despite herself, she smiled if only a little. 

“How much for the pair?”

“That would be two silver, my lady,” the merchant said, her eyes lighting up as she looked at Sylvanas.

Jaina watched as Sylvanas took a gold piece out of her bag, handing it over to the lady whose eyes seemed to widen even further. 

“Keep the change, belore’dorei,” Sylvanas said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The woman clutched the gold to her chest, nodding with a large smile on her face. Despite herself, Sylvanas actually smiled more in return, her red eyes flickering and dimming from their furious intensity. She looked almost normal, almost alive as she carefully took the figures that the merchant had just packaged up gently.

Even if Sylvanas didn’t care to notice the other people around them, Jaina looked around, noting how people in the vicinity had stopped to witness such an exchange. There was a strange curiosity in the humans, while the Forsaken, particularly the dark rangers looked as if perhaps there was a glimmer of a smile in their eyes at the sight of their leader finding some clear sentimentality in this woman and these little figures. Even as they thanked the merchant and walked away, Jaina could not help but look over her shoulder, watching as the ranger she recognised as Anya and one she had heard called Areiel both went up to the merchant to share a greeting and purchase hawkstriders. It was something so small and yet Jaina could not help but smile at it.

No monsters, as some were calling the Forsaken, would react such a way to memories of their past lives.

“You are smiling rather broadly, Jaina,” Sylvanas noted, looking down at her with a slight frown. “Did you find something amusing?”

“Amusing? No! I just… it is nice to know that the Lich King did not rob you of your humanity,” Jaina said, looping her arm with Sylvanas’ again. 

“Humanity? My dear, I am an elf and have never had… humanity. I believe you’re surprised to find that there’s actually a soul in this husk of a body,” Sylvanas chided, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh… I mean I never doubted that you did. You broke free after all, if you were soulless you would still be a tool of the Lich King.”

“Arthas. Don’t forget his true name. It was he who committed genocide on my people, who tore me from my body and would not let me rest in death.”

Jaina’s blood ran cold as she looked down at the dirt. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of the man she had once known, the young trainee paladin who had wanted so badly to do right by his people. The young man who had been arrogant, who had purged a town long before he had ever put his hands upon Frostmourne. Who had turned from a man she could have loved into a man capable of horrific, nightmarish things all on his own before becoming a monster. 

“Jaina… you have shown a great kindness in reaching out to me and my people,” Sylvanas spoke, her face twisting from a scowl into something far more neutral. “If we are to work together, we need to be on the same page.”

“I must admit, I expected you to not… be quite so open,” Jaina said, squeezing Sylvanas’ arm gently. 

Sylvanas looked down at her hand then, a strange, thoughtful expression crossing her face. She hesitated for just a moment, before she placed her hand on top of Jaina’s, cold and yet gentle. Enough to bring another tinge of heat to Jaina’s cheeks.

“Kindness and knowing my sister is near has… helped. But if you let anyone else know that I was quite so generous back there, I will tear your spine right out.”

Jaina laughed at that, shaking her head. Despite the fact that Jaina knew for certain that if she needs must, Sylvanas would not hesitate to attack her, she still knew that for the most part, Sylvanas had just attempted a joke. Even Sylvanas did not keep the facade of anger up for very long, as she let out a low chuckle. The first genuine chuckle that Jaina had ever heard from her lips. 

“Oh so that’s what it sounds like when you laugh?” Jaina asked, smiling broadly in turn.

“Chilling enough for you?” Sylvanas said, her lips quicked into one of the signature smirks that Jaina had to admit made her look even more beautiful than she already was.

“No, it’s quite warm actually.”

“If you breathe a word of that to anyone else…”

“I know, I know. You’ll rip out my spine. Now will you tell me why you bought those hawkstriders? I’m a little curious.”

“I have nephews, do I not? Even if they cannot play with these yet, I wish for them to know where they came from, since their mother seems intent on not returning back to help the sin’dorei rebuild.”

“There is a lot for her to think about… besides Quel’thalas is not quite safe yet, is it?”

“I am certain they will be back on their feet. My people are resilient.” 

“And your Forsaken?”

“Even more so, Jaina. After all, even death and the Scourge could not keep us down,” Sylvanas said, the smile dropping from her face as she stared out into the distance of Theramore. 

“I’m sure they’ll grow to be comfortable here. Just as I’m sure the sin’dorei will live and thrive.”

Sylvanas turned to her then, actually looking directly into her eyes as if she were searching for something. What it was, Jaina did not know but as she stared back, Sylvanas eventually let out a sigh that she was certain wasn’t even necessary for someone whose heart would never beat again. 

“Perhaps there should be a faster way to integrate our people. A festival of sorts?”

“The Lady Sylvanas Windrunner is suggesting a party?” Jaina scoffed, jokingly placing her hand over her chest in mock shock. “You know that isn’t such a bad idea.”

“Yes, there are occasions where my ideas are actually rather good. It appears as if contacting you was one of them.”

Jaina swore that perhaps it was all part of some scheme of Sylvanas’ to make sure she kept her red and blushing. It was embarrassing, frustrating and quite honestly the majority of that came from the fact that Jaina didn’t seem to mind as much as she should that the Queen of the Forsaken and her best friend’s sister was the one who was making her appear to be a young school girl unable to have a simple conversation with an attractive woman without appearing flushed.

“So,” Jaina said, clearing her throat as Sylvanas tilted her head and appeared now to be smirking specifically because of her. “A festival you say? I believe that may just work.”

\-----

Planning for the festival had gone underway almost immediately and its completion neared after only a few weeks. Jaina had been amazed over those last few weeks with just how much input Sylvanas and her dark rangers had put into the discussions, as well as the physical setting up that was nearing the very final stages. Their help had been invaluable and as they worked, Jaina could not help but see these people as more than simply undead allies. For her, the process she hoped that everyone would undergo was moving on nicely, the one where she started to see these people as people and even friends, just as she did with the living.

As Jaina issued commands to her summoned elementals, she looked over to the corner of the room where Sylvanas was standing, her hands spread across a map of Theramore on the desk before her. Ranger Anya stood beside her, whispering in Sylvanas’ ear in a way that always seemed to Jaina to be far more close and intimate when she would have allowed someone. She didn’t know whether either woman noticed her looking and Jaina was definitely convinced of the fact, when Sylvanas turned her head and captured Anya’s chin between her fingers. 

Despite not being the one involved, Jaina felt her breath hitch as Sylvanas leant in closer to Anya, her cheeks reddening as she failed to will herself to look away. It was as if the tension had spread to the whole room, a feeling that only intensified when Sylvanas leant down and captured Anya’s lips with hers. Jaina gasped, never once taking her eyes off of the two women as they continued, somehow finding herself wondering what it would be like to be the one with Sylvanas’ arms around her waist, or Anya’s lips on her neck.

“We have always had a very… personal relationship with our Dark Lady.”

Jaina jumped and spun around, coming face to face with Velonara who looked behind at Sylvanas and Anya with a smile. The dark ranger’s red eyes flickered back to Jaina then, her head tilting as she considered her for but a moment. It was as if she were taking in the blush on Jaina’s cheeks in excruciating detail, before the undead elf reached up and regardless of how flustered Jaina seemed to be, stroked the tip of Jaina’s ear.

“Wh-what’s that for?” Jaina asked, trying her best not to let her nerves get the best of her.

“Your ears get red when you are flustered. Would you like to be kissed by the Dark Lady such as Anya is right now?”

“That’s an awfully blunt question!” Jaina sputtered, her hands going to her mouth in shock and partially to hide her face from Velonara’s piercing gaze. 

“Deserving of an equally blunt answer,” Velonara said, her laugh sounding almost eerie with the supernatural edge that accompanied it. “It is a simple yes or no.”

“Ha, yeah, I don’t think so!” 

“Relax, Lady Proudmoore. It was only a joke… though perhaps I have struck a nerve?”

“Don’t you have somewhere better to be?” Jaina sighed, pinching her nose and shaking her head. Trust it to be Velonara who was an incorrigible tease that would be a bane to Jaina’s life. 

“Yes, I’m meant to be informing you that the Forsaken village has been adequately organised for the festivities and that our living aids were quite amicable. Thank you, Lady Jaina, I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep the people happy with just your words, but it seems to be working. At least for the most part.”

“Oh! There’s no need to thank me, Velonara. We are after all in this together, aren’t we?” Jaina said, smiling as Velonara laughed again, a warmer sound.

“Here, I carved something for you. A token, if you will,” Velonara said, holding out a little parcel of cloth.

As Jaina opened it, she couldn’t help but smile as the cloth pulled away to reveal what looked to be a detailed water elemental carved out of wood. It’s big arms were in a flexing position and small little blue stones were placed in the indents of its eyes. Somehow, Velonara had managed to make the wood appear dynamic, with cuts that carved out the tumultuous waves at the base of the elemental.

“Oh goodness, this is beautiful! But… why?” Jaina asked, curiously eyeing the way Velonara seemed to be beaming with pride. It was so odd to see the rangers with genuinely large smiles on their faces that it took her back a little.

“Just a token, my lady. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe Lady Vereesa required me for a task this afternoon. I shall see you tomorrow evening for the festival, my lady.”

Without letting Jaina get another word in, Velonara bowed and walked away. Her footsteps were so light and carried her away so quickly, as was the way of the dark rangers. It always confused and frustrated Jaina to no end. Of course it made sense for Sylvanas and her rangers to move swiftly and quietly, they had been the elite after all. That didn’t mean that their movements still didn’t unnerve her.

“That appears to be a pretty little gift, Jaina.”

“Fuck!”

Jaina jumped, clutching tightly onto the carving in her hand and twirling around. Of course it would be Sylvanas, sneaking up on her. These damned farstriders and their silent footsteps! Much to her dismay, Sylvanas actually laughed and Jaina automatically pushed her hard in the shoulder. Her eyes widened as she realised what she had done before Sylvanas laughed again, a sound that made Jaina’s cheeks burn even hotter.

“I did not realise you were capable of such language! You certainly keep surprising me, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas spoke, no longer laughing, despite the twinkle of amusement in those red eyes of hers.

“I’m from Kul Tiras, remember? I grew up around sailors,” Jaina huffed. “Was there something you needed?”

“I was just curious about what Velonara could have possibly given you. It’s pretty, she must have spent a great deal of time on that.”

“Oh? And why are you so interested?”

“Me and my dark rangers are pretty close, as I’m certain you realised. After all, you spent a while staring at Anya and myself.”

Jaina coughed, trying desperately to look innocent and knowing it was a completely futile exercise.

“Do not worry, I don’t mind the attention, Jaina. Anya is not the only one I am that close to, so I was a little intrigued as to why Velonara would have given you such a… _thoughtful_ gift.”

“Is that jealousy?” Jaina asked, tilting her chin up. 

“No, no. It’s simply interesting, she just never mentioned it. You should count yourself lucky, Velonara is extremely skilled with her hands.”

“I- what?”

“The _craftsmanship_ , Lady Jaina,” Sylvanas laughed, as if she had not just lured Jaina into such a trap. As if she was not the one whose voice was practically purring and dripping with some hidden meaning or other that dangled just beyond Jaina’s reach. 

“I trust you’re all set for the festival, Sylvanas?” Jaina asked, rolling her eyes at the smirk on Sylvanas’ face.

“Oh, to spend an evening by the side of the great Jaina Proudmoore? I can barely wait.”

“That’s… not what I meant at all.”

“Are you not as enthused? I thought the whole point was to set an example? If we are not excited and involved then how can we expect our loyal subjects to be so?”

“I… suppose I am looking forward to it. First, I want to know everything is going to go smoothly. I can’t allow myself such frivolity until then.” 

“At this point, everything has been set in place. Security is organised, the jobs have been delegated and our time has been planned out extensively. Perhaps you ought to get some sleep, Lady Jaina? You do seem awfully strung up and tired.”

“I am _not_ strung up!”

Sylvanas chuckled, picking up a flower that sat within a vase, the last arrangement to go outside before Jaina would be done for the day. It was a brilliant red rose, one which was held in pristine condition from the lingering druidic magic of some of the kaldorei druids that had been visiting at the behest of Tyrande Whisperwind. Jaina watched as Sylvanas removed more of the stem, dried it up a little and slowly slid it behind Jaina’s ear.

“Here, a gift of my own to tide you over,” Sylvanas spoke, her voice soft as her long, slender fingers grazed Jaina’s jawline before she removed them entirely. “Now go, get some rest. I can call in one of my Forsaken mages to help aid with elementals and such overnight. We do not need to sleep after all.”

“Do you ever sleep though? Or just rest?” Jaina asked, tenderly touching the petals of the flower and feeling her chest brim with some unknown warmth. 

“I have not tried yet. Perhaps if I could find the time to, but as it is, there is little to stop for.”

“What if I asked you?”

“You want me to rest, Lady Proudmoore?” Sylvanas asked, tilting her head curiously to the side. “Whyever would you ask that?”

“I… perhaps tomorrow is the chance for you to rest?”

“And I will be spending it with you. Yes, I could certainly think of worse ways to relax. Now, off to bed with you,” Sylvanas said, shooing Jaina away.

Dumbfounded by the conversation and the softness of Sylvanas’ voice, Jaina could do nothing but nod. She turned around to head back towards her rooms, her brow furrowed as she walked. Gingerly, she found her fingertips constantly drawn towards the bloom in her hair and she knew that if she were to look in the mirror, then her cheeks were likely to match the bright rouge of the brilliant rose.

“What is it with these gifts?” Jaina asked no one but herself. Speaking the words out into the silent air.

And why did these gifts seem to make her heart dance a little in her chest. That gentle stroke of her jaw, why she could feel the sensation of Sylvanas’ fingers still on her. Touching her so gently that the chill of her fingertips sent a shiver down her spine for an entirely different reason than the cold.

As Jaina made her way to her room and collapsed onto her bed, she realised just how tired she must have been when her sheets embraced her into slumber quicker than she expected. As dreams overtook her, all she could see in her mind was the sight of wooden water elements and gardens filled with roses in bloom. A gentle touch, a beaming smile. All of it pulled Jaina into one of the deepest and most serene sleeps that she had in awhile; pushing away dreams of her father’s ship disappearing beneath the waves and the singing of betrayal on the winds. 

\-----

Although she had expected Jaina’s company to be pleasing, Sylvanas had not quite expected for the festival to go as well as it seemed to be. As her and Jaina had walked through the throngs of people, she had watched as members of her Forsaken sat down on picnic blankets with their living family and friends, actually laughing and no longer being subjected to the dirty looks and fear that she had so often seen on the faces of the living.

For a moment, it was as if her rage was taking a backseat, as if being in Theramore had helped her feel more like the person she had been before all of the trauma and pain. There was no way she would forget her final goal, no way she would give up on being the one to kill Arthas herself, but perhaps she could find something else here. Something more than just vengeance and hurt. Community was something she had tried to forge amongst her Forsaken and now? Well now it seemed as if that community were expanding in surprising ways. It would not do to be complacent but… at least they had today. 

“Deep in thought, Sylvanas?” Jaina asked, right before she took a bite of one of the baked goods that she kept buying throughout their evening. 

Sylvanas stopped in her tracks, turning to look at Jaina carefully. The mage seemed comfortable as she ate the cake, not realising that a speck of frosting had gotten stuck on her nose. Chuckling and shaking her head, Sylvanas lifted a finger and wiped the frosting off before lifting it to her own mouth. It was sweet, sweet enough that if Sylvanas closed her eyes, she could almost taste it to its fullest potential, reliant on memories to spark her dead taste buds.

“I thought we would be military allies. I never thought I would see the living take to us at all, but this… this is promising,” Sylvanas said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. 

“I- I think so too!” Jaina spoke, her face tinged that adorable pink that Sylvanas had kept making it her mission to elicit. “They all seem happy to be reunited, despite the troubling circumstances. Though, Pained has delivered me reports of meetings of the less than pleased members of Theramore.”

“Hmm, yes. I have done my fair share of digging too. Alliance agitators, me and my rangers have managed to deduce. I do not think our plan to ally has gone unnoticed by Stormwind. Tell me, you are privy to the alliance Kalimdor elements far more than I, how do the night elves consider us?”

“With hesitation. Pained’s reports to Tyrande have been far more recent and I believe Shandris Feathermoon will be visiting at some point in the future to gauge your plans on Tyrande’s behalf. They are wary of how much sway the Lich King still has over you,” Jaina said, her smile dropping as she slipped into the thoughtful professionalism she wore talking about such important matters.

“None, I can assure them all. The only influence that wretched damned soul has over me is the desire for revenge. He took _everything_ from all of us. I will see that whelp dethroned!”

Sylvanas clenched her fists without thinking, her anger rising quickly and suddenly, as if it was a flood that appeared almost out of nowhere. Her muscles felt primed, the banshee form that she was beneath the physical body she had recaptured spilling out of her pores. It was as if she couldn’t begin to think of anything else other than vengeance. That was until she felt a force on her forearm. It was steady and strong, as if it were calming the waves of anger that seemed to roil throughout Sylvanas’ body.

When she focused, she could see Jaina looking at her, her eyes glowing a magnificent arcane blue. Ripples of soothing magic ran up her arm, making her gasp and shudder at the sensation, as if a cool sea breeze were taming the raging fires in the pits of her eyes. It was so hard to look away, when all Sylvanas could feel was Jaina’s essence embracing her in a way she had never felt before. She took a deep breath, her chest searing almost as if she needed the air that she breathed in. That salty brine, that sweet arcane.

“Jaina…” Sylvanas gasped, finding herself hungering for more. Of whatever essence it was that Jaina seemed to have in spades.

“How does that feel?” Jaina asked seriously, her eyes fading from their glow and slipping back to their natural state. “I had thought I’d try to see if magic would calm you.”

“I… yes. Yes, indeed it did.”

It did far more than that, Sylvanas thought. Her body burning still in ways she wasn’t wholly used to. All she knew was that her body ached the moment that Jaina removed her hand from her forearm and that the absence almost brought a whine to Sylvanas’ lips. A weakness she refused to let slip.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that Jaina seemed to be beaming now, her excitement so genuine that there was nothing Sylvanas could do to stop the pang in her chest. It was odd, that this woman, who she had thought to be naive, could be affecting her in such a way. So strange and yet perhaps it could not be denied, when Lady Proudmoore was one of a kind. 

“Come on, let’s take your mind off things. Why don’t you show me how to win at this archery game? I’ve always been a terrible shot!”

Jaina was so enthusiastic that Sylvanas let herself be dragged off by the hand, led through the crowd until Jaina came to a stop in front of a stall. Behind the counter stood Anya, who had reluctantly agreed to run a stall with one of the high elves that found their way to Theramore with Jaina, too scared to try and make their way back home to a Quel’thalas they knew to be mostly in ruins. Anya raised an eyebrow as she looked to where Jaina was holding Sylvanas’ hand, earning her a sharp look from her Banshee Queen.

The mage placed her entrance fee on the top before taking the small bow from Anya with an excitement that Sylvanas had not seen since she had last taught a young quel’dorei how to shoot a bow for the first time. Jaina was older than that child had been of course, but the excitement was the same and for that, Sylvanas found herself smiling despite herself.

To begin with, she watched Jaina take up a stance, one that was filled with errors and would not yield good results. Sighing, Sylvanas stepped forward before Jaina wasted any of her money on a shot that was doomed from the get go. Lightly, she took Jaina’s elbow in her fingers, pushing it upwards from where it hung too low to do anything of use.

“You really do need my help, I see,” Sylvanas spoke, frowning as she placed her hands on either side of Jaina’s stomach, encouraging her to stand straighter. “Who taught you to hold a bow like that?”

“I… erm… Vereesa tried to show me a while ago. I don’t think I was the best student.”

“I need to have a word with Little Moon. Your form is atrocious.”

“It can’t be _that_ bad!” Jaina huffed and Sylvanas had to do her best not to laugh at the indignant furrow of her brow.

“Oh, it truly is, Proudmoore.”

Smirking, Sylvanas went to Jaina’s front, reaching out and gently lifting the mage’s chin. She should have let go sooner, yet as she maneuvered Jaina’s chin to the right position, she took her time. There was something sweet about the way in which Jaina’s eyes seemed transfixed on her, watching as her breath began to dip a little. Sylvanas could hear it all, the way in which Jaina’s heart seemed to thrum faster in her chest at Sylvanas’ proximity. How sweet Jaina was, how completely unaware she seemed of her tongue sliding out to lick her lips, of the way her eyes flickered down to Sylvanas’ own lips. She truly did not seem to notice the way her body was reacting and Sylvanas could not help but chuckle. 

“Focus, little mage,” Sylvanas cooed, finally letting go of Jaina’s chin. “We wouldn’t want you firing your arrow accidentally.” 

Blinking rapidly, Jaina looked away quickly. She appeared awfully sheepish, perhaps only just realising how obviously taken she had been in the last few moments. A source of pride swelled in Sylvanas’ chest, to think that she still had this effect on people, even in death. Perhaps that was why she moved to stand behind Jaina, fixing her stance slowly and methodically. Being this close, Sylvanas could still hear and feel Jaina’s deep breaths and her thundering heart. Leaning into her ear, Sylvanas lingered for a moment, relishing in the fact Jaina was now holding her breath.

“I think you’re ready, Lady Jaina. Shoot well for me, won’t you?”

Jaina simply nodded, clearing her throat as Sylvanas stepped away from her. With one final repositioning of Jaina’s chin, Sylvanas crossed her arms and leant against a tree that stood beside the stall. Watching her carefully, Sylvanas could still see where Jaina’s stance relaxed from where it should be, as if she had allowed herself to sag out of Sylvanas’ presence. As Jaina finally let loose an arrow, it managed to hit the edge of the target, a little lacklustre in power. 

The next arrow was shot, only after Jaina seemed to straighten her posture, more closely mirroring the position Sylvanas had encouraged her body into. This one had more power, hitting the target closer to the centre. The third and final arrow was treated much the same, as if Jaina was altering herself to try and improve herself from shot to shot. Although none of the three shots hit the bullseye, the last had been definitely better than the first and progress was to be expected over perfection. No one was perfect after all, even Sylvanas.

“Good girl!” Sylvanas purred, clapping as she stepped up to where Jaina stood, breathing a little heavily as if she had not taken a breath since she had started. “You’ve learned something.”

The mage looked at her with such pride then, her smile large and bright amongst the now setting sun. It was hard not to smile back, as Jaina placed the bow and arrow back on the side and excitedly passed over some more coin.

“Won’t you show me how it’s done?” Jaina asked, her eyes pleading as she pouted at her. 

Clearing her throat, Sylvanas nodded. Trying not to think of how adorable Jaina looked in that moment. Adorable? A word Sylvanas never thought she would use again or be so affected by and yet here was Jaina Proudmoore, pouting and making sure that Sylvanas could never deny her simple request. She picked up the bow and arrows, inspecting them thoroughly as Anya gave her a bemused smile from across the stall.

“Anya, this bow is immensely disappointing,” Sylvanas huffed, even as she took her stance easily and readied an arrow.

“My apologies, my lady. We could not spare the good bows for a mere game.”

“Mhmm, of course it has nothing to do with causing a hindrance for those who wish to win your grandest prize. Which is?”

“A wooden orange bird. One of the toy makers has made it after claiming that this little bird was becoming a trend amongst the people of Lordearon. Such a craze had not reached Quel’thalas, clearly.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, yes it is. Now would you also like the child’s bow, my lady?”

Sylvanas scowled at Anya, stepping toward her and pinching the woman hard in the side. It was a habit, she supposed, though Anya’s shoulders slumped a little as she shook her head. She could not feel it as well as she used to and Sylvanas couldn’t help but a deep sadness at that. Such small things that Arthas had taken from them all, things that Sylvanas had not even considered to be tied so intrinsically to herself. Frowning slightly, Sylvanas focused again at her task.

If she could not feel as she should, then at least she would still shoot as she should.

Taking a deep breath, Sylvanas fired her three arrows with a speed and ease that came naturally to her as a ranger. She did not think more than she simply felt the motions, altering slightly for the bow and firing each into the bullseye with ease. She did not even wait for Anya to retrieve the arrows before firing the others, destroying the first two arrows in the process.

“I believe you owe Lady Proudmoore your finest orange bird, Anya,” Sylvanas laughed, tossing the bow at Anya knowing full well the ranger could catch it.

“M-me? But you’re the one who won.”

“I have no use for it. Consider it a token… your progress with a bow should be rewarded after all.”

“Oh, are you giving me wooden carvings as gifts now too?” Jaina asked, raising an eyebrow. “What is it with you elves and your gifts?”

Sylvanas merely smiled at that, taking the orange bird from Anya’s hands and giving it to Jaina. Absently, she raised her hand, patting Jaina’s golden hair fondly, her fingers getting caught in the tresses. She knew from Jaina’s blush that perhaps her actions were as unexpected to Jaina as they were a surprise to Sylvanas herself. The fact that Sylvanas did not want to pull away the moment she realised what she was doing, was the strangest emotion of them all though.

Studying Jaina, Sylvanas actually felt at peace for perhaps the first time since her death. Without another thought, she moved her fingers to Jaina’s chin, tilting it upwards as she stepped forward. That now familiar dance of Jaina’s heart in her chest was like music to her ears and for a moment, she could almost forget that she was not truly alive. She could forget the world around them and instead focus on the parted, plump lips before her, those bright blue eyes that seemed to be fervently dipping to look at Sylvanas’ own lips.

“Why do you call them tokens?” Jaina asked.

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“You and Velonara both called your gifts tokens and it feels like it’s a very specific word choice.”

“In elven culture we exchange tokens to those we hold in high esteem, or to whom we harbour feelings for,” Anya cut in, her voice laced with mirth.

Sylvanas turned and shot her a look, swiping a mug of ale that had been left on the stall and chucking it deftly at Anya’s head. If not for the elf’s swiftness, it would have surely collided with her, however Sylvanas was disgruntled to find that only the ale had managed to hit Anya. Scoffing, Sylvanas turned back to Jaina whose prior innocence seemed to have been exchanged for a curled smirk on her lips.

“Oh? You have feelings for me do you, Sylvanas?” Jaina asked, taking Sylvanas’ hand and lacing their fingers. “Velonara too? Don’t tell me you want to pull me into that ‘close’ relationship you have with your rangers.”

“I never insinuated anything of the sort, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas scoffed, sending another withering look at Anya who seemed to be quickly retreating behind the stall. Smart.

“So you stroking my hair wasn’t an act of affection?” 

“Your hair was simply messy and I wished to fix it. Nothing more.”

“Oh? Really? That’s a shame, cause I rather liked the attention you were giving me,” Jaina laughed, tilting her head to the side.

“I see…”

“You sound like you need to talk in private, Sylvanas. Why don’t we return to the keep and allow someone else to win at archery?”

Jaina tugged on Sylvanas’ hand, dragging her towards where the keep stood proud and tall, surveying and protecting the revelry below. Sylvanas tried to keep pace, unwilling for the general populace to see the human mage dragging her back towards the Keep. At best they would whisper about an affair, at worst they would whisper about unrest. Either way, the whispers themselves would irate Sylvanas to no end, so she kept pace, casting an occasional look towards Jaina, who seemed both determined and as if she were rapidly thinking, if the way she bit her lip hard and her eyes darted around were of any indication. 

Whatever was about to happen, Sylvanas felt confident in it. Whatever shall come to pass… perhaps it might even be considered good.

\-----

There was no stopping Jaina now that she had made up her mind. The look on Sylvanas’ face when she had stroked Jaina’s hair had been one of actual calm. She doubted that the elf would have noticed the gentle breaths she took, but Jaina had noticed them all. The red of Sylvanas’ eyes, once so vibrant and bright was dimming, as if the process of the last few weeks had brought a calmness to her that Jaina had not thought she would see.

It was mesmerizing, it was beautiful and right now, though impulsive, she knew without a doubt that she wanted to bring Sylvanas more of that calmness. To not just bring strength and care to her people, but to give it to Sylvanas herself. It was as if the simmering flame had been coaxed into a crescendo as Jaina pulled Sylvanas into her private study. She should’ve been shy about this, should’ve been cautious about what she was about to do, but what better time would there be to throw caution to the wind, than with the backdrop of the fireworks that she had gotten some mages to organise for their festivities. 

Almost as soon as she closed and locked the door behind them, she could barely believe her own boldness as she spun Sylvanas around and pushed her against the nearest bookcase. There was surprise floating in those red eyes, on fire with something a little different than anger; something a little hungrier. 

“You wished to talk, Lady Proudmoore?” Sylvanas asked.

“Right now? Not particularly.”

With that, Jaina pressed forward, overtaken with a whirlwind of emotions, of all the stress and strain of the past few years and pushing it forth into something else entirely. Just as she was about to capture Sylvanas’ lips with her own, she felt a hand around her waist, spinning her quickly until her back collided with the bookcase with a thump. Looking up, she watched as Sylvanas towered slightly over her, leaning her weight on the bookcase behind her before she raised her free hand to Jaina’s chin.

It was as if time stood still. With Jaina’s heart leaping in her chest and her breaths coming out in anticipatory pants. She closed her eyes just seconds before she felt the cold and yet surprising softness of Sylvanas’ lips on hers. The kiss was tentative and Jaina felt the instant that Sylvanas was about to pull away again. Whining in the back of her throat, Jaina dug her hand in Sylvanas’ hair, holding the woman there and urging her to stay in the kiss, to stay with her.

Sylvanas’ body went rigid for a moment and Jaina felt a surge of panic in her chest before it seemed as if the stiffness was shrugged away quickly. The hand on her chin tightened and the kiss grew more demanding, as Sylvanas slowly licked and bit at Jaina’s bottom lip. It was intoxicating, Jaina thought, her hands wanting nothing more than to move and explore, to pull them both until they were impossibly close. Light, how long had it been since she had been in someone’s arms like this? How long had it been for Sylvanas?

“Is this okay?” Jaina panted, the moment that she had to pull back for a gasp of breath.

“Yes, Belore, yes,” Sylvanas growled, moving the hand on her chin down to her neck. “Is this?”

Frantically Jaina nodded her head, gulping as that impossibly strong hand squeezed for just a second, before the hand moved further down, holding fast onto Jaina’s waist. Light knows Jaina wanted those hands in other places but right now this would do. Right now, all she needed was to feel that expert tongue against her own, making her lose nearly all train of thought.

She trailed her hands down the expanse of Sylvanas’ arms, stroking and squeezing the muscles there and sighing in appreciation. How wonderful it felt to have these arms near her like this yet, they must feel better when wrapped around her. Holding her. _Loving_ her. Jaina felt her breath catch at the thought, it was far too soon for that and yet she yearned for it still. Foolish and premature but it was there and for now it would be her little secret.

Jaina could not help the whines and moans that escaped her lips as she felt Sylvanas’ hands explore the curves of her hips over her robes, of the way those chilled lips pressed hungrily against her neck, licking softly and then biting down in a way that made Jaina’s knees tremble and shake. There was no denying how affected this was all making her, how much she wanted more and more. If she asked… if she pleaded for more, she knew without a doubt that Sylvanas would give it to her. She could feel it in the urgency, in the way Sylvanas always seemed to be shying away from touches the moment she made them.

Just as Jaina leaned back, about to ask and guide Sylvanas’ hands exactly where she needed to be touched… the door beside them began to knock.

“Ignore it,” Jaina whispered, gripping Sylvanas’ hand and guiding it up to her breast. “I don’t want anything to interrupt this.”

Sylvanas smirked and squeezed her hand, swiping a long finger over Jaina’s breast and sending a jolt of pleasure down between Jaina’s thighs.

Another knock, this time louder and more urgent. 

“Jaina, are you in there? You and Sylvanas are needed out in the courtyard!” came Vereesa’s voice through the door, sounding a little out of breath as if she had run there. 

Groaning as Sylvanas gave Jaina’s breast one last squeeze before letting go, Jaina had to force herself not to cry in that moment. Her whole body felt as if it were aching to be touched and loved and whatever interrupted that, pissed her off royally.

“What is it, Vereesa?” Jaina asked, fixing her hair before she opened the door to reveal the younger sister of the woman she had desperately just wanted to touch her.

The youngest Windrunner looked from Jaina to Sylvanas who stood behind her. Vereesa raised her eyebrows for a second, looking over at Sylvanas and shaking her head.

“Really? My best friend?”

“Just like old times, Little Moon,” Sylvanas chuckled, the breath of it ghosting behind Jaina’s ear and making her shudder.

“Well, before the two of you get too complacent, we have unrest outside. An alliance soldier here visiting family… he’s making a scene over the Forsaken.”

Jaina frowned then, looking back at Sylvanas whose face seemed to have darkened considerably, as if the shadows themselves had coalesced around her. Those red eyes, once calmed, were now shining red again. It broke Jaina’s heart to see that anger so visible, so volatile. All she could do was to reach out, stepping into Sylvanas’ space and cupping her cheek gently. Her hand seemed to pass through the shadows, actual tangible things that seemed to be wrapping their way around Sylvanas’ body.

As soon as Jaina’s hand touched though, it was as if the shadows receded, the red of furious eyes dimming even if it were only slightly. Sylvanas looked at her curiously; gratefully.

“Thank you… Jaina. Come, let us sort out this irritant.”

Sylvanas started to walk out of the door and down the stairs of the keep, each step followed by those shadows beneath her feet.

“We’re using diplomacy!” Jaina yelled after her, gripping Vereesa’s arm as she rushed after her would-be lover. 

“Jaina… be careful. We don’t know what she’s capable yet,” Vereesa whispered, her voice quiet and clear with worry. 

“You can admonish me after we’ve put an end to this disruption,” Jaina sighed, not once giving Vereesa another look as she hurried. “There are more important things right now.”

With that, Jaina managed to catch up with Sylvanas before she exited the doors. Taking a deep breath, she opened them with magic, willing to make an entrance enough that Sylvanas’ method of intimidation may not be wholly necessary.

She shouldn’t have let herself think that this would be so simple. When was it ever so simple?

\-----

By the time that Jaina and Sylvanas reached the commotion, it appeared as if a large crowd had gathered around what seemed to be a group of human men, all of them wearing proud tabards of Alliance blues and the dark rangers who were facing them off. A number of other Forsaken seemed to be chanting for these interlopers to leave, while their living family members argued with the men who seemed irrationally irate in the crowd.

Sylvanas snarled, stepping through the crowd, her presence parting the people with the ease of a searing knife. She could feel the shadows within her, her banshee form coiling and raging inside of her body. For these men to come here, on this day of celebration and unity and ruin it? It was unforgivable. She would not allow for her people to be demonised, would not allow these men who had probably turned their backs on the quel’dorei, who stood as if they knew everything with their chests puffed out and their arrogance clouding every piece of intelligent thought in their minds. 

“My lady!” Anya called, her hands outstretched as she stood in between a man and a small living child and its Forsaken mother.

“ _You_ !” The man at the head of the group spat, his finger jabbed not towards her, but to Jaina who appeared just at her side. “What in the blasted Light do you think you’re doing, _Proudmoore_.”

The banshee rose a little closer to the surface, black tendrils curling over the ground as Sylvanas took one step and then another. A hand grasped her own, a grounding force as a surge of magic flowed from Jaina’s fingertips and into her. It caressed her, soothed her, until the rising anger simmered if only a little at the sight before her.

“I believe I am holding a festival, General Bradford. Is there a reason you have come to visit Theramore unannounced?” Jaina asked, her voice calm and soothing and strong.

“We heard about your little pets here. You know if you feed the monster, all you’ll get is a fresh grave with your name on it.”

General Bradford had all the air of importance with none of the substance. His armour almost seemed too shiny, as if it had seen more parading around the streets than actual battle. His beard perfectly groomed, his face unmarred and Sylvanas could sense that he had only gotten his position through nepotism and without any of the skills to back it up. She could sense a man whose bark was far more worse than his bite. It was pathetic. 

She sneered at him, but crossed her arms, refusing to take another step forward to this puppet of a man.

“I do not believe I would be so careless as to end the life of an ally. Of a _friend_ ,” Sylvanas said.

“What would you know about care, you wretch? You’re fucking _dead._ An _abomination!_ ”

“Enough! That is _enough_ , General.”

“When you brought people to this land, it was not expected that you would make friends with the likes of the horde, or of the undead.”

“I created a _refuge_. If my idea of success is peace and diplomacy, of no unnecessary bloodshed and living in fear, then I would rather stick with that over whatever ideals you’re pushing for.”

“This is a matter of good and _evil_ ,” one of the other soldiers said, sneering. “These fiends tore up our _homes_.”

“That was when we were shackled. Now, we are free.”

“Oh yeah? Free are you? How do we know you won’t just turn around and rejoin that traitorous bastard?”

Sylvanas was about to snarl once more, when Jaina stepped forth, her eyes glowing a brilliant blue. It was enough to give her pause, as she watched the pure arcane of Jaina’s being seem to echo across the area.

“Arthas betrayed us all. He killed, he maimed. He took lives from us, he took all that we once thought to be true from us. All of us here are victims of Arthas and his arrogance, of the Lich King and his cruelty. We are united in that we all share that sorrow. We share family ties, we share places of birth and we share common goals. We are not on opposing sides of this war, men. I will not have us commit anymore cruelty in the name of the Alliance. In some mistaken belief that what we are doing is for the greater good. I will not let Theramore become another Stratholm. We are building something here and if you do not like it, then you can leave. All we ask for is tolerance and patience. Your scene is causing us all more harm than good, you should be _ashamed_.”

A murmur of agreement went through the crowd surrounding the Alliance soldiers. If anyone dissented, they did not make themselves known in that moment, as clear and as concise as Jaina had stated her position. It was strange, Sylvanas _knew_ that Jaina supported the Forsaken. She knew that if the evening had told her anything, it was that she supported _her_ too. Yet hearing her defy the Alliance, hearing her say it with such conviction was another thing entirely.

Even the Alliance soldiers, as proud as they had been, seemed to shrink a little into their armour. They appeared as if they were turtles, trying to find safety in their shells. But there was no hiding from Jaina’s words, no hiding from what looked like the sheer amount of disappointment that was written all over the mage’s face. If Sylvanas had thought her naive to begin with, there was not a single ounce of that belief in her now.

“Please leave,” Sylvanas spoke, moving up to stand beside Jaina, a united front. “You are disrupting the festival.”

General Bradford mumbled something to himself, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

“Come on men,” he said finally, turning around. “There are other missions that need seeing to.”

“If you can behave, you are more than welcome to join the festivities. It may open your mind a little, General,” Jaina quipped, her lips pulled into a light smirk.

“That is a very kind offer Proudmoore-”

“Lady. You shall address her with respect, _Bradford_ ,” Sylvanas sneered, her lips almost mirroring Jaina’s smirk.

“Of course. My apologies _Lady_ Proudmoore. Lady Sylvanas.”

Each man saluted, although Sylvanas could sense the humiliation and the sheer resentment that General Bradford held in his smug little frame. Still, each man turned and left through the crowd, an annoyed Pained and Anya following in their footsteps to ensure that they left the gates of Theramore without further incident.

Feeling her anger subside, Sylvanas could also feel Jaina relax beside her. The younger woman let out an audible sigh, as she motioned for the music to start up again and for everyone to return to their revelry. The situation had been dealt with easier than she expected and still Jaina appeared worn out.

“You truly believe in this, don’t you?” Sylvanas spoke, subtly lacing her fingers with Jaina’s. 

“Of course I do, Sylvanas! I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t believe in it. How could you doubt that?”

“There are words when you face no opposition and there is sticking by those words even when others do not agree. You could have bowed to those Alliance dogs and yet… you did not.”

“I am friends with members of the Horde, Sylvanas. Lately I haven't really been known for toeing the Alliance’s rigid lines. I know what they say of me in Kul Tiras and I know there are those of the Alliance who wish they could challenge me on my ideals. But I will not bow to them, Sylvanas. I refuse to bow to them.”

“Quite impassioned, aren’t we? I must say, you are _immensely_ attractive like this.” 

Jaina flushed, pushing Sylvanas’ shoulder playfully. It was strange, just how easy it was to smile around Jaina. She dreaded to think where she and her Forsaken would be if Jaina had not accepted their allyship. She dreaded to think of the anger that might have consumed her so wholly in the aftermath of the trauma she had, had to suffer.

Maybe like this, there would be less suffering and there would be more hope for their futures. Maybe, just maybe, Sylvanas could find a new lease of life, a new reason for remaining upon Azeroth rather than revenge.

“Why don’t we go back to my study, Sylvanas?” Jaina asked, letting her fingers trail down Sylvanas’ side, much to her surprise. “I’d like to prove just how loyal I can be.”

Laughing again, a pleasant feeling that Sylvanas never wanted to lose filling her chest.

“Lead the way, Jaina. I can’t wait to discuss more of our _partnership._ ”

(Sylvaina by Raviollies || [Tumblr](https://raviollies.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Raviolliess))


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter and a new piece of artwork that goes with it! Both chapter and art are NSFW!
> 
> Artwork at the end is done by PANTieStalker! You can find their artwork at:  
> Twitter - @PANTieStalker

**III**

Rather than the study, Jaina chose to lead Sylvanas further down the hall. They walked side by side, arms linked, as they strode through the keep. Jaina’s heart was still pounding from the altercation outside and such a feeling could never lessen when she was leading Sylvanas Windrunner towards her room; intent on finishing what they had started earlier. Biting her lip, she glanced out of the corner of her eye, taking in the sharp, defined lines of Sylvanas’ jaw and wondered for a second what it would be like to kiss and stroke along them.

“You’re staring, Proudmoore.”

Jaina felt her cheeks flush as she looked up at Sylvanas’ eyes. The Banshee Queen was smirking at her, a fanged tooth visible and almost making Jaina forget herself for a moment. She could not help but think of those fangs scratching against her neck. Piercing her skin ever so gently. Clearing her throat, Jaina tried to shake those thoughts from her mind as she finally gestured to the door that led to her room.

“Uh, we’re here. This is it.”

“Excellent.”

Before Jaina could even begin to open the door, she felt Sylvanas grab her waist and pin her against the strong oak behind her. A low groan escaped Jaina’s lips unbidden as she felt her back collide with the surface and could not help but whimper at the feeling of Sylvanas pressing impossibly close to her. Her hands reached for Sylvanas’ waist, squeezing gently as Sylvanas leant down, her breath grazing her like the faintest wisp. The beating of her heart seemed only to increase, pounding so loud in her ears that she knew Sylvanas must be able to hear it. It was embarrassing and exhilarating all at once. Jaina’s body seemed to ache for Sylvanas’ touch, as she tried to press herself up against her, eager enough for Sylvanas to chuckle, low and deep in her ear.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Sylvanas purred. “I meant what I said about your speech out there being incredibly attractive. Here I thought the academics might have removed all of that Kul Tiran ferocity from you.”

“That’s me; full of surprises,” Jaina squeaked as Sylvanas gently grazed her fang against Jaina’s ear.

“Mhmm, yes, it would seem so. Your reactions to me are quite surprising too. Do you like being trapped beneath me, Lady Jaina?”

“Yes… by the Light, yes!”

Another chuckle brushed her ear, sending a shudder down Jaina’s spine. Sylvanas shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around Jaina’s waist, pulling her into her so that Jaina almost missed the sound of the door knob turning and of Sylvanas opening the door. She only stumbled slightly as the hard oak behind her fell away, finding Sylvanas’ support enough not to fall backwards into her room. 

Much to her dismay, as soon as she was properly stable, Sylvanas let Jaina go, striding past her into the expanse of her room. Taking a deep breath, Jaina tried to settle herself, even as her body seemed to crave for Sylvanas’ proximity again. Still, she closed the door before turning around, watching as Sylvanas looked around the room. She was almost a shadow amongst the dim light of magical orbs that danced in arcane braziers.

Sylvanas seemed to be taking everything in as she walked into the room. Her elven ears twitched slightly as she moved over to examine the desk that stood in the corner of the room, piled with more tomes and far less reports than her study desk held. These were more for her own enrichment and enjoyment. Everything Sylvanas looked at, she seemed to dance her fingers across the surface. Whether it was the wood of the desk to the binding of the books, it was as if Sylvanas was trying to feel everything that she was looking at.

She seemed mostly drawn to Jaina’s large, four-poster bed. Silently Sylvanas touched the soft, purple duvet that Jaina had bought for its thickness and warmth. Jaina always found herself erring on the side of cold and bundling up in it reminded her of cold winters back at home. The purple of the Kirin Tor was far different from the Kul Tiran green that she used to have but it had reminded her too strongly of her father and of the home that would never have her.

Frowning, Jaina tried to remove those darker thoughts from her brain, her eyes focusing on Sylvanas and her thin fingers that seemed to caress the fabric. As much as Jaina thought she could happily watch Sylvanas move throughout her room, she wanted to be close. She wanted to feel Sylvanas’ body against hers. Moving forward, Jaina closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Sylvanas’ waist from behind. She pressed her face into her back, breathing in the scent of incense deeply and humming in appreciation.

Unlike before, Sylvanas did not seem to tense up this time, if anything she seemed to ease into the embrace. Those thin, clever fingers moved to Jaina’s arms, squeezing gently and stroking so softly that Jaina could not help but shiver at the sensation.

“I think this is the first time I have been anywhere so full of life in quite some time,” Sylvanas said. “You’re not as warm as I thought you would be.”

“That’s frost magic for you. Why? Does that disappoint you?”

“No, it’s more familiar. Besides, you are still warmer than I.”

“I like the way you feel.”

“That is certainly surprising. I am little more than a corpse.”

Shaking her head, Jaina pressed herself closer to Sylvanas, feeling the hum of magic that seemed to surround her at all times. It was somehow comforting, despite it being so vastly different from the magic that Jaina surrounded herself with. For all of Sylvanas’ confidence in leadership, for all of her ease that she seemed to have with her Dark Rangers, there was a softness to Sylvanas’ self-deprecation with Jaina. 

“Am I… the first living person you’ve been with since… your death?” Jaina asked, gently stroking Sylvanas’ stomach and waist.

“Yes. Do I truly not repulse you?”

Jaina shook her head, pulling back a little so she could get Sylvanas to turn to look at her. As soon as she could see the hesitation within Sylvanas’ eyes, Jaina pressed forward, pushing Sylvanas against one of her bed posts. Their kiss this time was gentle, as Jaina cupped her cheek, trying to pour all of the affection and need she felt into just one simple action. She sighed happily as Sylvanas held her waist again, her confidence growing with every second that Sylvanas responded in kind.

“How about I show you?” Jaina whispered, stroking her hands down from Sylvanas’ waist and around to squeeze her backside. “I find you extremely desirable.”

Sylvanas arched her eyebrow, her lips quirking up into a smirk. She looked as if she were about to say something, perhaps to refuse such gentle treatment, to tell Jaina that she would be the one in control? Jaina truly did not know, but whatever it had been, Sylvanas seemed to swallow her words. Instead, she reached a hand up, gently stroking Jaina’s blonde hair, her chest rising and falling despite the fact Jaina was certain she did not need to actually breathe. A moment of silence, the serene calm before the storm. The hand in her hair tightened, fisting in such a way that Jaina could not help but moan. Red eyes searched her for but a second before Sylvanas leant in, her lips burning like fire against Jaina’s lips. There was a desperation in the kiss as if Sylvanas was searching for something, craving what Jaina wanted to give to her.

With a soft nip to Sylvanas’ lip, Jaina’s fingers began to work at the buttons of Sylvanas’ shirt. She knew she was being too hasty, as she seemed to fumble a little with each button, earning herself a soft chuckle from Sylvanas. A strong hand wove its way into her hair, holding her steady as their tongues moved over each other, bringing small whimpers to Jaina’s lips. It was with great relief that she finally undid the last button, her hands making quick work of tossing the offending garment to the otherside of the room.

Breaking away from Sylvanas’ lips made Jaina whine, despite the fact she knew exactly where she wanted her lips to go next. Looking up through heavy lidded eyes, she could not help but gasp at just how beautiful and ethereal Sylvanas looked. The moonlight danced along her body and as Jaina leant back to take a better look, she could not help but feel as if she were reaching into the sky and grasping at the stars themselves.

“Beautiful…”

Sylvanas didn’t say anything, staying still as Jaina began to stroke her fingers along the unmistakable scar of Frostmourne. It was large, a little jagged, with what seemed to be magic scars that spread from the blade wound. The artificial rise and fall of Sylvanas’ chest stilled, as if the woman had suddenly remembered she did not need to breathe, or perhaps as if she were holding that unneeded breath, watching and waiting to see Jaina’s reaction. 

Humming softly, Jaina began to kiss Sylvanas’ stomach, her fingers dancing over the strong muscles that seemed to tense with every kiss upon her. Sylvanas seemed to be enraptured, those red glowing eyes not once leaving the sight of Jaina on her knees. The hand in Jaina’s hair tightened a little as finally Sylvanas groaned and allowed her head to fall back against the wooden post, a new breath shuddering through her body. Jaina could not help but smile then, as she hooked her fingers around the waistband of Sylvanas’ breeches. With a gentle tug, she began to remove them, sliding them and Sylvanas’ underwear down to her ankles. It was easy to get lost in this, to press her cheek against Sylvanas’ stomach and place lazy kisses there while her hands slowly massaged and squeezed at hard, toned thighs.

“Jaina… touch me.”

Smiling up at Sylvanas, Jaina nodded, placing kisses down her stomach and around to her hips. She could tell from the way the hand in her hair tensed, pulling her closer that Sylvanas needed whatever Jaina was about to give her. To feel wanted, desired by someone as powerful and beautiful as Sylvanas filled Jaina with a confidence she wasn’t quite aware of before. As she looked up, she concentrated magic into her palms, rubbing Sylvanas’ thighs slowly with arcane magic as she slowly dragged her tongue through the wetness between Sylvanas’ thighs.

A loud hiss echoed through the chambers, as Sylvanas bucked her hips and her hand fisted almost painfully in Jaina’s hair.

“Fuck! Again, Proudmoore!” Sylvanas growled, pulling Jaina closer. “That feels good!”

Jaina smiled almost innocently as she continued to lick Sylvanas, her eyes looking up into burning brimstone of desire. As she parted Sylvanas’ thighs a little more, Jaina wrapped her lips around the throbbing clit in front of her, licking and sucking as Sylvanas’ hips rocked greedily against her. Nails scratched at her scalp, making her shudder as she lost herself in the taste of wetness that leaked onto her tongue. There was something magical about it, a taste that no other person she had been with had. It was so uniquely Sylvanas, so wonderfully and beautifully her that Jaina could not help but allow her eyes to flutter closed in pleasure. 

Losing herself in the moment, Jaina sought to worship Sylvanas, her hands trailing up her toned stomach and caressing every inch of skin she found. It was a slow thing, cautious as Sylvanas’ nails would dig in as if to pull Jaina away, only to stroke her head a second later, her whole body relaxing from each spike of tension. As Jaina continued to nuzzle Sylvanas’ thighs, nipping gently before moving back to stroke her clit with her tongue, she felt the tension in Sylvanas’ body begin to coil in an entirely different manner. Moans escaped from Sylvanas’ lips, growing bolder and her hips more demanding. 

Growling slightly in the back of her throat, Sylvanas seemed torn still. As if this worship was not yet comfortable, as if there was something holding her back. Jaina stilled for a moment, letting Sylvanas come back down from a fierce reaction.

“Get on the bed, Proudmoore. Now!” Sylvanas groaned, pushing Jaina away from her and staring at her with hungry eyes.

“Of course, my Queen,” Jaina said, intrigued and excited by the way Sylvanas’ nose flared at the title usage. 

Quickly, Jaina went over to the bed, shirking off her coat and tossing it to the floor. With an encouraging hand motion from Sylvanas, Jaina lay on her bed, feeling herself surrounded by the plush pillows she slept on. But this was different from all the times she had laid her weary head down after a long, hard day. Now there was another weight on the bed, moving purposefully and sensually towards her in the hue of moonlight and arcane. Sylvanas looked like a goddess, looking down at Jaina from where she was now sitting, just on her chest. Lithe fingers stroked through Jaina’s golden locks, scratching her head pleasantly. A small smile pulled at Sylvanas’ lips as her hands went down to stroke Jaina’s cheek, running down her neck and to her chest, flicking open a button on her dress with ease.

“Good girl, Jaina,” Sylvanas purred, shifting down a little and popping open the next button.

Jaina could not help but whine, the praise making her long for more. Her whole body seemed to coil in anticipation as Sylvanas finished undoing her dress, pulling it down until it bunched at her waist. She took Jaina’s breasts in her hands then, causing the mage to squeal with excitement. Her body arched as Sylvanas slowly pulled and pinched at her hardened nipples, shuddering as thumbs grazed with each gentle squeeze of Sylvanas’ hand. She was taking her time, watching Jaina curiously, her lip held between her teeth.

“Please…” Jaina whispered, reaching up to stroke Sylvanas’ thigh. “That feels so good…”

“Patience, Jaina. I believe you need to finish what you started.”

Jaina’s sudden confusion was short-lived as Sylvanas moved up to straddle her face, the slick, wet heat of her pussy hovering just above Jaina’s mouth. Moaning in appreciation, Jaina eagerly wrapped her arms around Sylvanas’ thighs, looking up at her as if she truly were a goddess that she was about to pay all the fealty in the world to. As if this Queen above her was the one she wanted desperately to please. She supposed, in this moment, she truly was and perhaps she would be for years to come. 

Before she could get too ahead of herself, Sylvanas fisted her hand a little tighter, pulling at Jaina’s hair until she couldn’t help but moan.

“Please me.”

With all the confidence and experience of a leader, Jaina could not help but follow her orders instantly. Pulling Sylvanas down onto her, Jaina moaned happily as she ran her tongue over the abundant wetness that she had created. Such a fact was intoxicating. Sylvanas was this wet for her! Sylvanas Windrunner was riding her face and groaning with each rock of her hips. Jaina relished in it, in each slow lick and as she delved her tongue inside of her lover, curling and thrusting until she could leave to suck and lick at her clit.

As she worked, she could feel the power in Sylvanas’ thighs, the sheer ferocity at which she held onto Jaina’s hair and took all that she had to give. Perhaps even better was the soft praise, the harsh curses that Sylvanas seemed to spout more and more freely as Jaina pleasured her. She was trembling, her hands moving to grip onto the headboard as she rutted harder against Jaina’s tongue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Fuck, Jaina! You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Just a little more. I need just… a little more.”

Listening as intently as she was, Jaina reached a hand around, moaning as her fingers slipped so easily inside of her lover. Sylvanas practically purred, rutting against Jaina’s fingers as she curled and thrust them up into her. She could feel as Sylvanas was leaking over her chin, soaking her so intently and yet Sylvanas had not a care in the world right now. She was too focused it seemed, on the deep shudders that coursed through her body, as more and more wetness spilled onto Jaina’s tongue. There was a resounding crack, the unmistakable sound of splintering wood above Jaina’s head. 

Slowly but surely, Sylvanas’ rutting stopped and she eased herself off of Jaina’s face. Jaina could see more clearly now, as she looked up at her lover, whose eyes seemed focused on the chunks of wood in her hand. Had...she just broken her headboard? It seemed that way as Jaina saw the missing pieces, gouged out of the antique whole. She should have been annoyed and yet she merely felt more excited, as the wood was flung to the side and Sylvanas slid down to capture Jaina in a fierce kiss. Her arm wrapped almost possessively around Jaina’s waist, pulling her closer as their legs intertwined. 

Jaina wrapped her arms around Sylvanas’ shoulders, holding her close as they kissed. She loved being held like this, in strong arms that held something that straddled the line between safety and fear. There were perhaps countless lives who had been lost to the power in these arms and Jaina knew she should be scared of that. She should be terrified and yet she was quite the opposite. The ever growing slickness between her own thighs was enough to confirm that for her.

As they kissed, Jaina groaned as Sylvanas’ hand stroked between them, massaging her breast before trailing further down and helping to pull away the dress and underwear that Jaina still wore. Now they were both completely naked, vulnerable here in this bed on the beginning of something special, for both them and for their people it seemed. As Jaina pulled back for a moment, she found herself awestruck at the beauty at her fingertips, as they danced across the defined muscles on Sylvanas’ back.

“Mmm, you need a reward, Jaina. For being such a good girl for me.”

“Yes, please!”

Sylvanas smirked at that, her hands moving down to grab at Jaina’s ass. With a low moan, Jaina found herself being rubbed against Sylvanas’ thigh. That strong thigh she had been admiring so much earlier was now pressed up against her, her source for the pleasure that washed over her body. It was hard not to give in instantly, not that she was fighting to begin with. She wanted this with every fibre of her being and her hips rocked greedily to show for it.

Sylvanas dipped down as she moved to loom over Jaina, her mouth moving from kiss-bruised lips to the nape of Jaina’s neck. The kisses were slow to start, languid things that pushed deliciously at Jaina’s pulse point, until suddenly she felt teeth dig into her. Moaning and digging her nails into Sylvanas’ back, she could not help but buck harder at the feeling of being bitten. It was heavenly and depraved all at once, this yearning need that bubbled up inside of her, building like the untamed sea. 

As soon as she was about to beg for more, she felt long fingers slip inside of her, two to start, picking up a steady rhythm until they were joined by a third. Jaina never usually used three for herself, but by the Light she was so wet and she wanted to be filled over and over by the insistence of Sylvanas’ fingers. Each curl sent her mind spinning, each hard thrust and low chuckle in her ear made her hips buck harder than she thought they could. She wondered if Sylvanas could bleed, cause surely the depth of her nails now would have drawn blood on anyone else.

As soon as Jaina felt the touch of something cooler, far cooler than the rest of Sylvanas’ skin encircle her thighs and pull them further apart, she couldn’t help but look questioningly at Sylvanas. The smirk the undead elf wore was enticing, her eyes flickering down to guide Jaina to the source of the cold. Tied around her legs, pulsing with that same magic that marked Sylvanas, were black, shadowlike tendrils that squeezed. It was like the whisper of a caress, the gentle stroke of something that still felt entirely like Sylvanas but alien too.

“My banshee form has some benefits,” Sylvanas said, that devilish smirk still plastered on her lips. “Would you like to see?”

Knowing she should have been scared, Jaina surprised herself with how quickly she nodded her head and keened loudly for the opportunity to see what Sylvanas had to offer her. With a small chuckle, Sylvanas drew back her hand, weaving her fingers until the shadow coalesced into something larger and more phallic. It was part of her, part of Sylvanas, that pushed its tip into Jaina, testing the waters as the tendril of shadow writhed around inside of her. Jaina whimpered, clenching her eyes closed and feeling the intensity of her pleasure heighten more and more as Sylvanas pushed deeper and deeper inside. 

Her breath was ragged, chasing each breath as they seemed to elude her, so taken by this feeling of Sylvanas inside of her, thrusting and writhing in a way that was not natural. Planting her feet firmly on the bed, Jaina bucked, panting and groaning with each thrust, chasing the fast approaching climax as if it would be her last ever. 

A gentle coo sounded in her ear, a hand brushing her cheek and words that she could not make sense of other than their intent to praise and encourage. It was enough to send her over the edge, spirling head first over the wave that crashed over her entire body. She could feel herself rocking, whimpering as she rode Sylvanas’ tendril to the end. Until she was nothing more than a sweaty mess in her sheets, her eyes lidded as she wrapped her arms around Sylvanas, almost clinging to her in the aftershocks. 

“My sweet Jaina, you took me so well,” Sylvanas purred, stroking Jaina’s hair and nuzzling into her neck. 

“Mmmm, what was that?”

“Just a manifestation of my power. I’ve found it can be quite… useful. Though I must say, you were the first to experience them so intensely. I wonder if that is because you are alive, or whether having me fucking you just excites you so much.”

Jaina whimpered at the words, gasping as Sylvanas bit down on her neck again. 

“Bruise me…”

Sylvanas looked up at her then, arching a long, elegant eyebrow before lowering her mouth again. She moved lower this time though, taking a space just above Jaina’s breast and licking and sucking hard upon the skin. Jaina hadn’t asked for such things before and yet she wanted them now. She wanted Sylvanas again and again tonight, despite the fact she could feel the exhaustion try and carry her away with the tide. 

By the time Sylvanas had left a few bites and bruises all over her chest, the elf moved back up and kissed Jaina softly. Those fingers that had brought Jaina so much pleasure held her chin, keeping her in place as Sylvanas slipped her tongue in her mouth and stroked her tongue painfully slowly with hers. It was hard, feeling her body torn between the need to be touched and the need to fall asleep. It had been so long and never before had she had so effective a lover. She wanted this to go on. She needed more.

“You look dazed, Jaina. Perhaps you should sleep?” Sylvanas chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Jaina merely mumbled in response, only vaguely taking note of the way Sylvanas was peeling back the covers of the bed and slipping her inside. The one thing Jaina did properly sense was the hesitation in Sylvanas as she stood and stared down at Jaina for a little too long. Huffing, Jaina reached her arms up sleepily, humming happily. 

“Come sleep with me…”

“I told you, Jaina, I don’t need to sleep.”

“Then rest with me? I want you in my bed… please.”

For a moment, Jaina feared that Sylvanas would deny her, but after more hesitation, she seemed to give in. The fearsome Banshee Queen slipped into bed beside Jaina, wrapping her arms around her middle and holding her as if she feared she may break her. Scoffing a little, Jaina ignored such precious handling, instead turning and burying her face in Sylvanas’ neck, her arms and legs wrapping around Sylvanas as if she were scared that she might leave at any moment.

“G’night, ‘Vanas,” Jaina mumbled, her mind drifting away with the tiredness of her muscles.

A small chuckle was the last thing she registered, she thought. That and the gentle touch of a hand on her cheek and the breath of air against her ear.

“Goodnight, my Jaina. May you sleep well.”

(Sylvaina by PANTieStalker|| [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PANTieStalker/status/1331679949711962113))


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